The Piano
by Evy Darkwood
Summary: How a young Dean Winchester learnt to play the piano


_The man is pointing his rifle at Dad. He's going to shoot, Dean knows that. He can feel his own rifle in his hands, so heavy. He raises it, pointing it at the man's head. It's really heavy, should be too heavy for a twelve year old, but Dean's hands don't tremble._

_He shoots._

_He doesn't miss. He hasn't missed a target for years now._

_The man's head explodes._

_The man falls, hitting the ground with a sick 'thud'._

_His blood is everywhere._

_Dad looks at Dean. In his eyes, there is surprise. And for one second, just one, there is horror._

_Then he's the man bleeding on the round._

_And Dean knows he is the one who shot him._

Dean wakes up, trying to not scream, cold sweat covering his young body. He breathes heavily, trying to calm himself down, but it's difficult.

He's having that same nightmare since the day he shot that man. He doesn't understand why. He did the right thing, didn't he? But then why was Dad so surprised? And has he dreamed the horror in his eyes, or was it really there? But he was the one who taught Dean how to shoot. And that man was trying to kill Dad, and he wanted to kill him and Sammy.

Or so said Dad.

But Dad would ever lie to Dean, so it's true.

So it was the right thing to do.

But then why does he feel so bad about the whole thing?

Dean takes his head between his hands, shaking. He can hear Sammy's faint breath from the other side of the room. For a second, he wishes his little brother to have a nightmare too, so that he would go to Dean and they would end up sleeping together, then he feels guilty at having thought it.

He's confused and scared, but this doesn't give him the right to disturb Sammy's sleep.

He thinks about going to Pastor Jim, their caretaker for the next weeks, but then he dismisses the childish idea.

He stands up, and gets out of the room. He starts to walk in the hallway, not really looking where he's going, so he's surprised when he finds himself in front of the stairs that brings to the church.

Somewhere from down there, the piano is playing an unknown song. It's not a church song, Dean can easily recognize them by now. This one seems an old ballad, or something like that.

Dean likes it, so he starts to go down the stairs. He will just stay near the door, listening. He won't disturb Pastor Jim and Pastor Jim will never know he was awake, so he won't ask questions.

Dean doesn't want to answer them. He's tired, but he can't sleep, he can't let go, but then again his nightmares are only his.

He doesn't remember when it became a rule, it's just how things are.

He's at the end of the stairs now. The music is stronger, louder. He can nearly hear it playing in his own heart too, like an echo.

The song ends, and another starts. He just sits there, against the door, listening for who knows how long, one song after another, for hours, ignoring the cold coming from the icy old stones he's sitting on.

_You sure is it just the cold?_ Asks a voice in his head. He ignores it. Of course it's just the cold. Churches are always cold, after all.

He's trembling in the cold for what feels like forever when he hears Pastor Jim over the music.

"Are you going to sit there until dawn, Dean?"

He stills, adrenaline pumping in his veins.

"You know, it's not a crime to not be able to sleep. Why do you think I'm here?"

Dean doesn't move, but he has to ask. "Why are you playing the piano?"

For a while there is no answer, just the music. Then, "When you play the piano you have to follow rules. Precise and complex rules. It's easier to not think, if you have to follow them and to concentrate on the next sound."

"Why don't you want to think?" Dean asks, not able to stop himself even if he knows he shouldn't ask. Dad always says to not ask to the people they meet about their lives or their memories. Now Dean understands why.

"Because of what I saw, Dean."

The man's head blowing up appears in his mind again, and Dean feels a sudden urge to cry, but he knows he can't. He doesn't know why, he just knows he can't.

He stands up and goes into the church, shivering a bit.

Pastor Jim doesn't stop his playing, but shifts a bit on the tool, making room for Dean. The little boy sits down, feeling the warm irradiating from Pastor Jim's body, and the shivers lessen.

They just stay there, the priest playing and the boy watching, for a while. Pastor Jim's fingers fly over the keyboard, so fast it seems impossible they are really touching it.

And Dean thinks. He thinks about not having to remember, not having to think about his confusion ad about his nightmares, and he starts to envy Pastor Jim. And he knows Pastor Jim knows it.

So it's not a surprise when a little broken voice asks, "Can you teach me?"

Pastor Jim makes a sad smile. "Of course, Dean. Of course."

If John is surprised, when he comes to pick them up two weeks later, that Dean and Pastor Jim are playing together the little church's piano in the middle of the night, he doesn't show it.


End file.
